


Charging a Bullet

by My_Own_Infinity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean Has A Sexual Realization, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 03:45:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2798372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Own_Infinity/pseuds/My_Own_Infinity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I hate Supernatural's current queer-baiting as much as anyone, and I've always thought that the end of Season 5 would have been a great time to introduce viewers to the concept of Dean and Cas having feelings for one another. Since the writers didn't take that opportunity, I decided to create a slash spin-off of S5E18: Point of No Return. </p>
<p>In short: Dean wants to give himself up to Michael, but Cas isn't having any of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charging a Bullet

He had been close – _so close_ – to escape. Sammy and Bobby were asleep, the car keys were on the table, and the house was quiet. He thought he was alone.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean Winchester froze, his hand on the doorknob. Slowly, as nonchalantly as he could manage, he turned towards the living room and the dark figure standing in the center of it. “Hey, Cas,” he chuckled lightly. Nervously. “Didn’t see you there. How’s it going?”

He didn’t get an answer. The figure just stood silently, waiting.

Frantically, Dean searched for an excuse. “I was…uh, I was just heading out to get a beer. I’d offer to get you one, but, you know, you being an angel and all…” He had turned back around and had just started to twist the door handle when he felt another hand gripping his own. The door clicked back into place.

“You were going to say yes to Michael.” It wasn’t a question.

Dean was going to argue, to lie and tell Castiel that he was stupid for even _suggesting_ such a thing, but…the porch light was shining through the window, illuminating Castiel’s piercing blue eyes, and something in them told Dean that he wasn’t going to be able to talk himself out of this.

“Yeah,” he said finally, so quietly it was barely a breath, but he knew Castiel would hear him. “Yeah, I was.”

“Why?” Castiel’s facial expression didn’t change, but there was some new, unidentifiable emotion in his voice.

“Because…” Dean struggled to come up with an answer. Couldn’t Cas _see_ why? “Because I have to. I don’t have a choice.”

Castiel took a step closer. “You _always_ have a choice.” Yes, there was definitely _some_ new emotion in the angel’s tone. He almost sounded…pained? _Of course he does,_ Dean thought. _Cas, Sam, Bobby – they don’t get it. They never have, and they never will._

“People will die if I don’t.” His words didn’t seem to appease Castiel. Dean hadn’t expected them to.

“Last year, when we were keeping you for Michael, you told me that this was something worth dying for. That free will took sacrifice.”

Dean sighed. Leave it to Cas to turn his own words against him. “That was different. That… That was me. _My_ sacrifice for a free world. Now… Man, I just don’t see a way out that doesn’t end in some kind of apocalypse. The way I see it, I’m just choosing the better of the two evils.”

“You don’t think you’re worth saving.” Again, the angel was not asking for confirmation, and Dean didn’t try to argue.

“No, I don’t. I’ve been a monster ever since I got out of Hell. Giving myself to Michael is the last good thing I can do for this goddamned world. You and Sam – you can help people. You’ve got good left in you. But me? Nah.” Dean gave a broken chuckle. “The world doesn’t need me.”

There was a long silence in which both beings – man and angel – stood staring at each other. Dean was breathing shakily, but Castiel was standing perfectly still, meeting Dean’s eyes once again with an unreadable expression. And then the angel said softly, nearly silently, “I need you.”

_I need you_. The words were foreign to Dean’s ears. Castiel appeared to be shocked as well – he blinked twice and his eyebrows drew together slightly, which was the biggest expression of dismay Dean had ever seen him display.

“I…” He what? He wished he could stay? He was doing this for Castiel’s own good? He would rather it be him than Cas? He needed Cas too? Instead, what came out was, “ _Where were you?”_ Now it was Dean who took a step forward, and he found that Castiel was much closer than he had previously thought. Despite himself, Dean found his voice growing softer, weaker – vulnerable instead of fierce. “Where were you when I prayed? When I called for you – when I _begged_ you to come? You say you need me, but where were you when I needed you?”

Castiel’s brows were drawn, and he was peering at Dean as though the man was speaking another language. “I’m fighting a war, Dean.” He spoke carefully. “I come when I can, but I do have…other commitments.”

“ _More important_ commitments.” Dean scoffed. “No, I get it. I mean, we’re just a couple of humans, right? Why would we matter to a _big, important_ angel like you?” The sarcasm in his voice was biting, and Castiel visibly recoiled.

“I didn’t say that. Dean, you matter to me. More than you know.” There was an odd, almost regretful note at the last, but Dean was too angry to care. All of the pain and frustration of the past year – all of the death and regret and sorrow – came pouring out at once.

“You’re just like the rest of them. All you angels are all ready to buddy up with us when you need our help with your great ‘plan,’ but the _second_ we ask for something back, you hightail outta here. I’m done. I’m done with the lies, Cas. If you want to act like you got a say in what I do for this planet, at least stop pretending you give a damn about us, ‘cause you don’t.”

Castiel looked… Dean didn’t know _what_ Cas looked, but it wasn’t anything good. He stepped forward, closer, and Dean could feel Castiel’s breath on his face. “I don’t _give a damn_?” Castiel repeated slowly, softly…dangerously. “You would say that, Dean, to _me?_ After all I’ve done for you, you would _dare_ tell me that you are alone in this fight? No.” His eyes narrowed and his lip curled into something like a snarl. “No, Dean. This war is being fought on _your_ behalf, and _you_ are going to stop making messes and then trying to sacrifice yourself in a misguided attempt to solve the problem _you_ created. You will stop trying to abandon the people who _love you_.”

The last two words pierced the chink in Dean’s mental wall, bringing it crashing down in the deafening silence that followed. Besides one short blink, Castiel gave no indication that his words held any weight, and Dean was left stammering under the weight of Castiel’s glare. “I- You l- uh…I mean, _leave me the hell alone, Cas!_ ” Dean raised the arms of a body – _his_ body, though it felt like a stranger’s – and pushed Castiel away. His efforts propelled him backwards more than they did Castiel, given the Cas was a being of almighty power, and Dean was…Dean. The angel stood unmoved, practically frozen as Dean stumbled into the door.

There was no sound in the room apart from Dean’s heavy breathing. Castiel may as well have been a statue. Finally, Castiel’s eyes narrowed and he spoke, his voice low and angry. “You know _nothing_ about me you naïve,” he took a step forward, “little,” another step, “ _boy._ ” He was inches from Dean’s face and his lip was curled in a snarl and Dean wanted to lean forward and run away but he couldn’t because Cas was _right there_ and his thoughts were racing and he didn’t know what to do and-

Castiel had pressed against him, pinning him to the door with his body and- and _lips,_ which were moving against Dean’s with fury and just a _hint_ ofdesperation. Dean made a surprised noise against Cas’ mouth, but didn’t pull away.

And then his shirt was being pulled off, Castiel having stepped back to allow the hunter’s clothes to be maneuvered off of his body. “Cas…”

“Shut up,” the angel growled, undoing his own belt buckle with short, jerking motions. Dean complied, still not entirely sure he wasn’t dreaming, as Castiel – blunt as ever – grabbed him by the arm and pulled him over to the couch. The soft cushions broke Dean’s fall just in time for the angel to straddle him, still snarling viciously. “I rebelled for this?” Castiel snarled, now ripping off Dean’s jeans with the same force he had used on the bewildered hunter’s shirt. “So that you could surrender to _them?_ ” The both of them were nude now, and Castiel’s cock was rubbing against Dean’s with such sweet friction that Dean couldn’t help but moan. He knew, on some level, that he should be afraid, but every other facet of his mind was occupied by the bright blue eyes currently glaring down at him with all the wrath of an angry god. Castiel spoke again, quietly this time. “I gave everything for you. And this is what you give me.”

_Oh, what Dean wanted to give him…_ “Please…Cas…” Dean didn’t know what he was begging for, but it wasn’t for Cas to stop.

Castiel just snorted in response and then – without warning – thrust two fingers into Dean and began scissoring him open. Beginning with two fingers was especially painful without lubricant, but it wasn’t unbearable, and (if Dean was going to be honest with himself) it was very, very _hot._ Three fingers, and Castiel was no longer talking, but _god,_ where the _hell_ had he learned to do _that?_ His fingers curled against Dean’s prostate, and Dean’s back arched in ecstasy. It was so good, _so good,_ and he wanted more, more…

And then Castiel’s hands were gone, and Dean was left more desperate and needy than he had ever been in his _life._ “You’re _mine,_ Dean.” Castiel’s hot breath tickled the back of his neck. “ _Mine._ And _nobody_ touches you but me.”

“Okay,” was the only thing Dean managed to whisper in response.

Dean felt Castiel shift on top of him, and then he felt – _oh, god –_ he felt the angel enter him, eager and insistent, but also loving and careful. He allowed himself to relax, trusting that Castiel wouldn’t hurt him unless asked. When Cas was all the way in, he paused, his breaths coming in gasps as he allowed the both of them adjust to the feeling.

After what seemed like an eternity, the angel positioned himself and took one last deep breath, and then thrust into Dean with one smooth roll of his hips – out and in, and Dean’s grunts were muffled by the couch cushion. Again, and they were both truly gasping now, chests heaving nearly in sync. A third time, and as it possible to die from pure ecstasy? Because Dean sure felt like he would. He quickly lost count of the angel’s thrusts, but that didn’t make them any less amazing, less heavenly, less-

And then Cas had a hand wrapped around Dean’s cock, pumping his hand in time with his thrusts, and Dean had been so, so wrong – _this_ was heaven, and he needed more, _more…_

“ _Dean…”_ Castiel moaned, and Dean lost it. He was cumming onto the worn upholstery of Bobby’s couch, biting down on the cushion so as to not wake the rest of the house. Castiel followed soon after him, and the warm wetness that filled him made him feel… _safe,_ of all things. Secure. It was a thoroughly unusual feeling for Dean Winchester, but he found that he quite liked it.

Castiel pulled out and took Dean in his arms, their position more cozy than cramped on the small couch, and kissed him, slowly and passionately. When he pulled his head away, Dean could finally see the hurt and concern and _fear_ in the angel’s deep blue eyes. “Don’t leave,” pleaded Castiel quietly.

By way of response, Dean pressed another kiss to Castiel’s smiling lips. No words were spoken, but the message passed like a spark from one man to the other.

Dean wasn’t going anywhere.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If Destiel is your thing, and you want to talk more about it, come chat with me at my [blog!](http://we-are-team-free-wifi.tumblr.com)


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